Joe Calligan arose hastfully, his large figure panting as it instinctively grabbed a revolver laying nearby on a small table. Frowning, he tightly squeezed the piece, eyes darting all over the dark unlit space he was in.

Removing the sweat soaked blanket with his left hand, Joe rose up from the hard wooden bed he had slept in. His clothes, hanging on a stool next to the bed, were still in one piece, much to his surprise.

“God dammit I did it again “

he muttered internally, as two calloused palms rubbed onto several crevasses on an already worn down face.

Sharp rays of the sun greeted him when he withdrew the blinds to what he now confirmed was an inn. A busy street welcomed him as caravans and people made their way across the dirt stricken yellow ground that was the standard of the arid west. Refocusing onto the room, he noticed it was primitive. His bed made up the only piece of furniture, and was accompanied by the small wooden table next to him. It in fact looked so brittle that he was surprised it could hold the weight of his revolver. Next to the wooden door that marked the exit was a hanger for clothes and jackets. The walls and floors were made out of wooden planks. Like most of the buildings he had encountered they had been nailed into the supporting framework, providing airflow during hot days like this one, although that would come back to bite on in the as during the cold winter days.

Scratching the back of his head, the large man began sluggishly putting on the clothes next to him. Slim blue jeans equipped with a holster, tightly covered his thick legs as the sound of spurs spinning came from a pair of brown leather boots. A large black poncho sat on top of two broad shoulders, and his eyes, now calm, were naturally squinted and rested in the shade given to him by a wide brimmed leather hat.

Placing one foot in front of the other, he began making his way across the creaking floor, eyes glued to the wooden door opposed to him. Suddenly a violent but familiar throb filled the inside of his skull, as the sensation of a nasty hangover hit him harder than any punch to the face ever could.

"Curse the bastard mother of whoever made up Alkohol" he mumbled to himself, as his hand went for the knob.

Suddenly Joe heard squeaking coming from outside the door.

Without thinking twice, his body jolted back, pupil looking through the ironsight of his silver revolver as he stared at the wooden door. Maintaining his right arm raised, he gently tiptoed out of the direct path, a few steps to the right of the inward opening door gave him the leverage he needed to finish whoever was stupid enough to court death.

Joe clutched his teeth, as large veins ran down his neck. He felt his pulse pounding like war drums in a marching band as small beads of sweat began forming on his palms, slightly worsening his grip. The familiar stomach twisting sensation overcame him as his body tensed up. Joe bit his lip as he groaned in frustration.

“When do i fucking learn” he thought, cursing his himself for getting into trouble with the bounty on his head.

"Hello mister" A feminine voice suddenly sounded, cutting through the tense air. The feminine voice momentarily disarmed Joe, the latter slightly lowering his revolver. She sounded to be in her early twenties; and the cracking in her voice gave away her fear.

Joe rolled his eyes. Even if he had gotten used to the whole being scared of the new guy act, it still annoyed him that he had to be on his best behavior. Small towns like these always had an inexperienced deputy who couldn’t wait for the chance to claim glory by killing people like himself. The thought of southern cacti liquor briefly flashed his mind, as he remembered smashing it over one of those said inexperienced deputy’s a few years back.

" I'll be out in a bit" he responded solemnly after some time. His gut told him that it wasn’t a setup.

"A-alright " The woman squeaked as if she had delivered her message. Silence ensued for a few seconds before a pair of hurried steps sounded down presumed stairs.

Joe exhaled in a short burst, slightly releasing the tense grip of his revolver. After pausing for a bit he took a long breath, and then exhaled loudly.

Shifting attention to his piece, he raised the gun vertically, aligning it with his shoulder. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, a silver Smith and Wesson that had been embroidered with black stripes of patterns that coiled around the gun, like a snake grasping its prey. He had acquired it after an altercation in a town westward. He still remembered the furious face of the mayor upon seeing his good for nothing son laying dead in his new suit.

The gun felt weightless in his hand. A testimony to the fact that it had become an extension of his own arm. Joe spun it on his finger, quickly rotating the revolver 360 degrees so it landed perfectly into his holster. He was all set.

Carefully opening the door, he was greeted with a long hallway. It had several rooms on both sides. The burly man floated across the sensitive wooden floor. Creaks and raised voices came from what he guessed were other tenants, as he slowly walked towards the staircase that marked the end.

*

Creaking could be heard as a grey bearded man sat leaning onto the wooden counter of the bar before him. He wore a leather jacket that downed a golden star sitting on his chest. Looking towards the dress shirt clad man in front of him, he nonchalantly swirled his glas before he gulped down the last of the brown liquor.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"When is he coming down?" He asked as he slammed the glass down on the counter

"Should be any second now Bill " A finley clad man answered " I just told my daughter to call him down".

As if on cue, loud steps could be heard as a young brown haired woman galloped down the twisting wooden staircase. She wore a long white blouse that revealed her blossom along with a pair of black jeans, something quite uncommon.

" I’ve just called him down daddy, he should be here any minute"

" Thankyou Jenny" Frank said, nodding in her direction as he filled up another glass with brown liquor, putting it in front of Bill

“ If anything happens, I've got a 12 gauge behind the counter, ”

"That's reassuring Frank" Bill said as he turned to Jenny “ Hello kiddo”

"Sherriff" the young woman smirked playfully, as her eyes glittered, before turning sternly as if she remembered something

"Are you here to detain him?"

Bill sat pondering for a while, calloused hands caressing his silver beard.

" Heard he bruised up the Jenkin's boys yesterday”

Then he paused, sighing before continuing

“Even though they are a scourge, and good for nothins…. I can't have people assailing each other."

" Of Course sherriff, and we appreciate that" Frank chimed in. He always felt nervous when outlaws or outsiders entered his establishment, never knowing if he'd be washing away blood by the end of the night. God knows it had happened too many times, all over stupid things like women or money.

"Speaking of the devil" Bill exclaimed as he rose up, hand on his holster.

"Hello stranger. Name is Bill - I'm the town sheriff"

"What have I done to deserve this welcome party sheriff? " Joe asked in a direct tone, hand beginning to creep towards the back end of his silver piece.

"Just want a friendly talk" Bill said, nodding his head towards the exit. “ Lets not escalate things here”

Joe sighed as he released the tension from his posture

“Alright Sheriff, your town, i'll follow the rules” Joe said as he cumbersomely walked past the sheriff. Quickly he flashed a smile towards Jenny causing the latter to blush. Working at an inn she was used to men hitting on her all the time, but for some reason the mysterious stranger made her heart skip a beat.

Frank facepalmed as he saw their interaction

“ Women and danger…” he muttered to himself

Joe pushed open the wooden gates that blocked the dusty air from reaching the inn. As the strong sunlight met his eyes he saw a bustling dirt street. There were buildings on both sides of the road, to the left side a larger square area could be seen, and to the right the stores faced the road on both sides until they halted before the entrance, a wooden frame with a sign.

Joe observed as farmers carried produce on horse drawn carriages, people entering and exiting the shops, and people shouting as they tried to sell things from small stands. It was a larger town that seemed to have everything essential to be self sustained.

Joe turned backwards to face the now frowning sheriff, who stared intently in his direction. Just as he was about to ask him about it, a boy came running towards the pair.

“Sheriff!” the boy screamed as he fell with both hands to his knees, panthing intently for a few seconds before continuing “The Tarp brothers are in town! John is blocking their entry but they refuse to leave, you need to hurry!” he shouted nervously

Bill patted his back“ You did good William, now there, tell Michael and Trevor to bring two rifles and join us pronto.”

“O-okey” The boy responded as he ran for the sheriff's office, his red hair standing out in the crowd.

“Listen up everyone” Bill exclaimed towards the townsfolk, causing a few of the passing people to jump “ I need everyone to head inside, the tarp brothers are back”

Horrified expressions filled the faces of the passing townsfolk upon mentioning their names, it was clear to Joe that they were good for nothings. Most of the people began walking quickly, mothers grabbing their children, and worried merchants riding further inward with their goods. Store fronts closed along with windows of residential homes. Although some still stayed, Joe figured they were outlaws based on their attire and equipment.

After talking to the townsfolk Bill turned to Joe, eying him intently.

“ Listen-”

“Joe”

“Listen Joe - I’ve got a bad situation at hand, so our little conversation will have to wait. Can I trust you to not cause any ruckus while I'm gone?” he said, strained eyes contrasting his smile.

“You have my word sheriff”

“Good”

Flashing a slight smile, he began running towards a horse that was tied to a post just outside the inn. After swiftly untying the knot, the older man jumped up the saddle with athleticism unexpected for his age.

“Atta girl, Milk!!” he shouted as he patted it twice on its side.

Neighing energetically, the horse jolted across the dirt road, sand shooting up behind the pair as people jumped out their way. Quickly the horse had reached a speed so fast Joe's eyes shot open. He had never seen a horse as fast, and he had seen a lot of horses. Chuckling, Joe walked out the bar as he nonchalantly scouted the town. He walked until he saw the first building that hadn't shut its windows or had closed

Gun store

He appreciated when stores advertised their intended purpose.

Putting his hand on the wooden swing doors, Joe let himself into the dark interior.

“ Howdy” An older man greeted him, who sat on a stool behind the counter. “ What can I do for ya stranger?”

“I need a rifle. Somthing that can hit a target from 30 meters away” Joe said, already eying a winchester.

The older man smirked at Joe “ Seems like you’ve already decided, u’ve got a good eye boy”

“I'm assuming you want a couple rounds to go as well?”

“You’ve assumed right” Joe said, returning the smile as he withdrew 300 dollars. “ Will this do?”

The older man placed the gun on the dark wooden counter as he bent down and picked up a small box. “ 250 dollars for the gun, a box of 500 rounds go for 100”

A sight could be heard as the man scratched his head

“ but I can give ya 250 for 50 dollars instead, since you seem to need it”

“That would be much appreciated,” Joe said, tipping his hat as he placed the money on the counter.

Joe put the Winchester 73, over his shoulder, filling his ammunition belt before putting the remaining ammo inside his satchel.

“Hey” The older man called out, stopping Joe at the exit, his friendly gaze had been replaced with a cold and ominous expression.

"Yeah?"

“ The tarps aren’t regular buckeyes - they always shoot first”

“They better, if they want to live” Joe said without turning, then exited the shop.

As Joe left, a small smirk could again be seen on the older man's stern looking face.

“ Seems like things have gotten interesting here all of a sudden”